Chapter 21
The observation deck, the gorge, and the whole mountain range looked different to Mary’s eyes a few short weeks later. Green metal plaques with white lettering pointing out mountain and waterfall names were interspersed with historic information about the river, the railroad, and the towns at either end. The trees were lush and dark green, the rhododendrons in the undergrowth covered in clusters of dark pink, purple, and white flowers.
A few curious cyclists stopped to take in the view, then stayed to watch the unexpected event of a small television crew setting up. Mary had ridden up from Gossdale with Sandy Evans and her camera and sound people. Even with trail work soreness behind her, she was happy to walk the quarter mile from the new parking lot rather than chug up the m
